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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26367574">Promise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/inelegantprose/pseuds/inelegantprose'>inelegantprose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Baby Ben Solo, Childbirth, Disney canon compliant, F/M, Force Ghost Anakin Skywalker, Grandparent Darth Vader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:55:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26367574</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/inelegantprose/pseuds/inelegantprose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A Force Ghost (and a Jedi) await a baby's birth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anakin Skywalker &amp; Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa &amp; Anakin Skywalker, Leia Organa &amp; Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Promise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em>Hanna City Birthing Center </em>– are they no hospitals on Chandrilla? Do they even have licensed medical doctors here?”</p>
<p>“From what I understand,” Luke said calmly, “it was something of a <em>compromise</em>.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well as long as it was a <em>compromise</em>.” The shimmer’s eyes appeared to roll. </p>
<p>“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she’s a very stubborn person. Eking a compromise out of her is honestly an accomplishment. Apparently Alderaanian birthing custom is decidedly de-medicalized.”</p>
<p>“Oh, how interesting! Tatooine has a similar custom! One born out of, oh, <em>poverty?</em>”</p>
<p>“Funnily enough, I actually think Han said something pretty similar.”</p>
<p>“I don’t blame him,” the ghost replied with a touch of bitterness. “She <em>is</em> a princess.”</p>
<p>“Former princess,” Luke corrected gently, and the blue glimmer faded momentarily, as if its literal presence was wounded by the damning observation.</p>
<p>“Still,” he murmured. “She should be receiving the highest quality of care. <em>Medical</em> care – the most modern facility, the absolute latest technology. None of this – pastel wallpaper, waterfall sounds. I remain… skeptical.”</p>
<p>“This must be a sensitive situation for you, Father,” Luke observed gently. “I mean… from what you’ve told me of our mother…”</p>
<p>The glow flickered out again, just for a moment. Sensitive, indeed.</p>
<p>“But Leia is smart. And Han – isn’t afraid of pissing her off if it’s in her best interest. I’m sure this place is perfectly well-suited to the task at hand. And anyway, I’ve been checking in on her periodically. She’s – I mean, she’s struggling, but she’s okay. Today is a happy day.” A small smile, then, and brief warm eye contact between the two. “You don’t need to worry.”</p>
<p>Anakin’s ghost glanced away, almost as if a bit embarrassed at being caught fretting, and not for the first time Luke marveled about how <em>young </em>he seemed. His youthful appearance was – appropriate, honestly, because there was a kind of arrested development about him, a young man’s stubbornness and insecurity. <em>I can’t stand it</em>, Leia had said at one point, months earlier. <em>How </em>desperate<em> he is for my forgiveness, for your approval, how he’s so </em>needy<em>. </em>(Darth Vader, needy? That had been Han’s skeptical reply. Well, stranger things had happened…)</p>
<p>“Today… tomorrow…” Anakin muttered. “It still seems unusually protracted. And she is quite young. And quite… delicate.”</p>
<p>“Delicate?” Luke couldn’t help but snorting. “Are we talking about the same woman?”</p>
<p>“<em>Small. </em>And her—”</p>
<p>“<em>Han</em>,” Luke supplied, just as Anakin managed, “Smuggler…”</p>
<p>“Is – tall! Well, it’s true!” he insisted irritably, put out as Luke had begun to laugh. “I’ve merely stated what’s easily observable!”</p>
<p>“Yeah, no, I know, it’s just – once again, you and <em>her smuggler </em>are on the exact same page.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” Anakin asked dully without much interest.</p>
<p>“Leia said he said something similar,” Luke clarified, trying to wipe off his smile. (<em>And how’s Han taking it? </em></p>
<p>
  <em>Well, I think. All thing’s considered. I mean, he’s terrified, of course, but so am I, though I think he’s more anxious about the mechanics of the whole thing. From what I can tell, maternal mortality rates on Corellia are…</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Probably comparable to Tatooine’s. So, rough. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yes. So, his latest fixation is, of all thing’s, our relative sizes. Which is ridiculous – it’s a baby. But he’s being supremely insufferable about it. I think I managed to shut him up earlier today, but knowing him he’ll find some other idiotic non-issue to obsess over.   </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Han? Shut up? How’d you manage that?</em>
</p>
<p>Here his sister had turned faintly pink. <em>At the risk of being crass, I merely reminded him that he’d been concerned over the issue of our heights compared before, and everything had turned out to – fit – without much of an issue.)</em></p>
<p>“Human labor is a long process,” Luke noted. “Our community on Tatooine was pretty isolated – er, I guess you remember that – so my aunt did a bit of midwifery, and sometimes I’d go with her to help.”</p>
<p>Anakin looked skeptical, if faintly amused. “You didn’t have any female cousins who could’ve helped her out instead?”</p>
<p>“Excuse me? Gender aside, I was a pretty solid assistant, if I do say so myself.”</p>
<p>“Lars and his wife had no children of their own, is what I mean.”</p>
<p>“No, I was an only child. Well, other than the long-lost twin sister, that is,” he added with a half-smile.</p>
<p>Anakin was unamused. They’d been over this, his anger at their separation. <em>Families should never be separated, </em>he’d insisted with total seriousness. <em>It’s inhumane</em>.</p>
<p>Leia had snarled something about humanity and violence and murder, Luke couldn’t really remember her precise wording. She’d been so passionate but so <em>angry</em>, those early months after Endor, an electric shock of concentrated energy as vibrant as the bright blue of the saber she’d created. That conversation had been before he’d known better than to confer with the two of them together. By the point of the saber’s creation, he also knew better than to remark on its color’s similarity to that of their father’s.</p>
<p>“She was raised an only child as well, wasn’t she? Do you think they’ll have more children?” Anakin asked after a moment, the question almost – conciliatory. Like idle chit-chat, waiting-room talk, filling the long silence of waiting as though one party can’t just entirely dissolve into the Force at will.</p>
<p>“What, on purpose next time?” Luke joked. “I don’t know, I think she’s pleased to have avoided the twins gene this time around, maybe won’t want risk it.”</p>
<p>“Right. Twins run in families.”</p>
<p>“… were there any, in our mother’s, do you know…?”</p>
<p>A quick but measured reply: “No. Not that I know of. No twins there.”</p>
<p>“Huh. Okay. Well, anyway.” A beat, then, carefully: “I think… I think Leia feels they’ll probably have their hands full with this one. So.”</p>
<p>Left unspoken between them: her fear about this child, his potential power, the tremendous responsibility of raising a good and moral child so strong in the Force, all the while navigating her own burgeoning identity not-quite-but-nearly crisis and, of course, the stability of the post-war galaxy…</p>
<p>A long silence. Then: “Your sister is a strong woman.”</p>
<p>Luke wanted to smile, but he could practically hear Leia’s voice in his head, so easily could he predict what she would say were she here: <em>Yes, no thanks to you. Yes, in spite of you. Yes, I’ve had to be, in order to survive you.</em></p>
<p>Maybe he was projecting loudly, because a moment later, Anakin blinked into nothingness.</p>
<p>XX.</p>
<p>If the tall, anxious man could sense the glimmering figure in his presence, he didn’t let on. And really, there was no reason to believe he could, though there was something about Han Solo’s edgy energy that made the man appear to possess some sixth sense, some ability to track when he was being followed.</p>
<p>Han Solo. Husband of his daughter, courtesy of a quick pseudo-elopement ironically not unlike his own. There was one of the rings as proof, currently being worried by the man’s rough fingers, back and forth like a nervous tic. Anakin would be lying if he didn’t admit to himself he’d tried to subtly sneak a glance when the door opened to let Solo out, but – nothing. The lights were very low, and it was quiet. Too quiet?  </p>
<p>(He’d felt this fear before, it was uncannily familiar, all those old nightmares but instead of feeling that <em>rage </em>he felt helpless instead. Helpless and out of place. In another life, if he’d never – if they’d never – if he hadn’t – if none of them had been separated, he’d be in the same place, albeit maybe in a corporeal form. Waiting outside the room, looking for a sign. Her mother with her, maybe. He’d taken that for her. Taken any opportunity for a mother beside her, actually. Both mothers, because of him.)</p>
<p>Helpless would be a good word for the feeling the man in front of him was expressing. Helpless but angry and scared, very familiar indeed, as his ubiquitous Wookiee friend appeared over the comm.</p>
<p>“Nah, no baby yet,” Solo was mumbling. He <em>always </em>mumbled – why did he always mumble?! – but then again the princess – Solo’s wife – his <em>daughter </em>– had elocution for the both of them. Her perfectly crisp diction, her sophisticated way of speaking, her <em>way with words </em>– he’d noticed when she was in the Senate… noticed it even as she’d insulted him… begged for mercy… “She’s fine, everything’s fine. Just slow goin’.”</p>
<p>The Wookiee said – <em>something</em>, Anakin could he tell. Did he feel bad about snooping? Maybe less bad since he could only pick up half the conversation.</p>
<p>“Why’m I calling then? Dunno, thought you’d appreciate the update. Kriff.” Solo rubbed his face. “I don’t know. I’m just. I don’t like it. I can’t stand seein’ her in pain. You know that.”</p>
<p>Another inquisitive growl.</p>
<p>“And she’s not great with pain either. Psychologically is what I mean, y’know, in her head – <em>obviously</em> she’s tough as <em>hell</em>.”</p>
<p>An observation…</p>
<p>“Yeah, it’s fuckin’ ironic alright. Fuckin’ hilarious. Can’t take pain but can’t take needles either? It’s fucking…”</p>
<p>Something a little gentler then.</p>
<p>“I don’t know. I can’t be what she needs, I can’t… Chewie, shit, she wants her mom, I just know it, y’know on Alderaan? It’d be her mom, her aunts – all these <em>women</em>, where are her <em>women</em>, right, like it’s just – just <em>me</em>! Me!” Rubbing his face harshly, raking fingers through her hair. “She got all quiet, she just – you know, it’s pain, it brings her back. It brings her right back so she’s just, she’s up in her head…”</p>
<p>And maybe some encouragement?</p>
<p>“Don’ think there was any conscious <em>I wanna have a baby with </em>him<em>, </em>but sure, I’ll take it.”</p>
<p>Gentle again.</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah. I know. I just – you know, her birth mom and—”</p>
<p>A question.</p>
<p>“They don’t know why, the records don’t kriffin’ exist! They don’t exist, she kriffin’ <em>died</em>, and we’re here in this fuckin’ <em>Birthing Center</em> and—”</p>
<p>Then an insistent roar.</p>
<p>“Yeah I know I should be in there! You think I don’t know that? I need a kaffe is all. ‘Course I haven’t left her side!”</p>
<p>And again—</p>
<p>“I’m going I’m going! I’m going. Yeah yeah, back atcha, I know. I know. Everything’s gonna be – it’s gonna be fine. I know she’s tough. It’s Leia!”</p>
<p>And then the figure was gone, and the man was taking in a deep, shaky breath. Then shut his eyes, shook his head, managed a small smile. Anakin knew that smile, that luckiest-guy-in-the-world smile, that waiting-to-get-caught, waiting-to-wake-up, like you can’t quite believe it. Solo leaned back against the closed door with that smile, looking like he was – centering himself.</p>
<p>There was a droid that approached him, and Solo snapped into action immediately: “Hey! You! You see that screen on this door? Says no droids in here, in <em>this room</em>, not in this room, okay! Not here!”</p>
<p>(The droid turned out to be a kaffe droid, and anxiously articulated as much. Solo took the kaffe and dismissed it with a huff. Anakin took a glance at the door – there was a note on the panel there, something about the patient being Very Important, something about No Droids. He didn’t realize she had a problem with droids – from what he could tell, the group was almost always being trailed by, of all things, his homemade protocol droid C-3PO plus his old astromech, too.)</p>
<p>(<em>She was tortured with a droid</em>, <em>you idiot. You tortured her with a droid</em>. <em>Of course, she doesn’t want them around when she’s in agony.</em>)</p>
<p>Solo gulped down his kaffe and opened the door. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, his tired smile audible. “I miss anything good?”</p>
<p>Her voice was pretty faint, but still had that sarcastic, witty edge. <em>“Oh yes, I dilated completely and gave birth to our son.” </em></p>
<p>Door shut, then, Solo’s reply muffled. Wasn’t meant for public, anyway. A shut door, a sign, all very clear… but those things kept out the living (or the mechanical, as it were) – technically they could hardly stop a presence in the Force… technically, he could appear so easily… Or even just reach out with his feelings, project his consciousness, no need for her to even know – just get a sense, a feel, for if she was okay, was going to make it…</p>
<p>But no – he’d made a promise. And if he ever wanted even the barest amount of credibility with her, of <em>trust</em>, he had to keep it.</p>
<p>XX.</p>
<p>The promise had come about in the following manner:</p>
<p>He’d tried to keep a respectful distance since Endor. He relied on her brother for information, mostly, but he did make overtures to her towards reconciliation. He’d also on more than one occasion appeared to <em>surprise </em>her with his presence, but that was also because it was sort of difficult to navigate the ghost business, so sometimes when he meant to more generally “check in” he’d appear corporeally, a midnight spectre in the galley of that ramshackle ship, startling her as she paced following a nightmare. Once, he’d accidentally appeared in one of her endless meetings, and she’d choked on her water, struggled to compose herself. He regretted that. And then there were the times where she’d summoned <em>him</em>, albeit apparently unintentionally, usually while meditating with Luke – he’d be Elsewhere and then suddenly, <em>poof</em>, there he was, as surprised to see his children as they were to see him, blinking at them as they sat crosslegged across from each other, pebbles in a state of suspension all around.</p>
<p><em>Go away! </em>she’d practically growl, and he’d blink at her, a little taken aback.</p>
<p><em>You called me here, </em>he’d insist, <em>You summoned my presence</em>.</p>
<p><em>I did no such thing! </em>she would snap.</p>
<p>Luke would look between them, a little helpless. <em>We need to work, I think, on your control.</em></p>
<p>The day he made the promise, she was working on her control. She was alone, from what he could tell, going through her meditations with a kind of fuck-it rushed compliance and then, a stray thought pulled him toward her, suspended him there in the living world. For a minute or so she didn’t notice, just kept breathing with her eyes shut, and Anakin took the moment to watch her face: the sort of scrunched up irritation that every so often smoothed into contentedness, the elaborate hair-do, the roundness of her abdomen. After a moment her eyes popped open and she was at ease, but once he came into focus, she snapped back into defensiveness.</p>
<p>“Do <em>not </em>insist that I summoned you,” she hissed. “Even if I did, it was wholly unintentional.”</p>
<p>She stood up, brushed off her dress, took special care around her midsection, busied herself with straightening up and not looking at him.</p>
<p>“I come when summoned. It’s not as though I can know your intentions.”</p>
<p>“Well, surely you can <em>anticipate </em>them. Or <em>read the room.</em>”</p>
<p>“Perhaps it’s delusional to remain hopeful one day you might actually wish to speak with me?”</p>
<p>“I would say, <em>Don’t hold your breath</em>, but.” She stretched, rubbing her clearly aching back and shutting her eyes as she did so. Was Luke really insisting she meditate sitting cross-legged? That was surely unnecessary.</p>
<p>“How are you feeling?”</p>
<p>“No,” Leia said firmly, not opening her eyes. “You don’t get to ask me that.”<br/>“Excuse me?”</p>
<p>“You don’t get to <em>be involved</em>. You certainly don’t get to access some kind of – sick do-over,” she said curtly.</p>
<p>“I was <em>summoned</em>. I didn’t come here with an agenda.”</p>
<p>“Okay. I don’t believe you.”</p>
<p>“You – you honestly think I just – what, randomly appear, to antagonize you?”</p>
<p>Here, she nodded. “Antagonize. Linger, look. Spy. Call it what you will.”</p>
<p>“And <em>why </em>would I do that when you’ve made <em>so abundantly clear </em>how much you loathe my presence?”</p>
<p>“Beg my forgiveness, perhaps.”</p>
<p>“I’m no fool.”</p>
<p>“No, I know you aren’t a fool. You have cunning, I’ve seen it…” She grimaced again, rubbing her back.</p>
<p>“I hope you’re well, Leia,” he said, teeth gritted slightly. “I wish you no ill. The opposite. I meant only to be polite. Anyway – it suits you. Pregnancy.”</p>
<p>Her retort was immediate and acid: “What a bizarre, patronizing, wholly inappropriate comment to make.”</p>
<p>“If you insist on seeing it that way.”</p>
<p>“I want to say it’s no worse than what I get these days from strangers, but then again, you’re worse than a stranger, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>“Am I.”</p>
<p>“Because I’ll never have the privilege of not knowing you,” Leia said, and her vitriol was palpable. She looked at him expectedly, then grimaced. “It’s pathetic, how you just take <em>it.</em>”</p>
<p>“Take what?”</p>
<p>“My <em>anger</em>. You just <em>accept </em>it, it’s pathetic, I’m embarrassed on your behalf.”</p>
<p>But Anakin was noticing something else. “It’s the middle of the night.”</p>
<p>“How very observant you are,” Leia mumbled.</p>
<p>“Why are you meditating in the middle of the night?”</p>
<p>She seemed caught off guard, then – very guarded. “I couldn’t sleep,” she said, a cautious edge to her voice.</p>
<p>Anakin raised his eyebrows. “From what I’ve seen, meditation isn’t exactly a practice that has brought you peace.”</p>
<p>She snorted at that.</p>
<p>“I was the same way. Truly. I found it – tiresome.”</p>
<p>“That’s a word for it.”</p>
<p>“Do you always intentionally aggravate yourself when sleep is difficult? Because if so, I think you may want to consider another strategy.”</p>
<p>“Thank you for the advice. If you must know, I was asleep. Then I woke up. Rather suddenly.”</p>
<p>“Ah.” <em>Nightmares, then</em>. He was familiar with that as well. He ventured cautiously, the gentlest sort of teasing, “My doing, I suppose?”</p>
<p>“For once, no.”</p>
<p>“Should I count that as a victory?”</p>
<p>“Maybe. I don’t know.” She sounded faraway.</p>
<p>“Your – smuggler. He doesn’t…?” (Not that he was dying to imagine the man coaxing his daughter back to sleep, murmuring to her, comforting her, but also, the idea that he would let his pregnant wife just suffer alone upon waking up from a nightmare…)</p>
<p>“Han has nightmares too, you know. Also your doing.” A test, he could tell.</p>
<p>He flinched, but kept his expression mild. “You’ll take easily to new parenthood, then, if you’re both accustomed to interrupted sleep.”</p>
<p>“How would you know about that?” she shot back.</p>
<p>“I would have liked to,” he retorted, “but I seem to recall my children being kidnapped in infancy.”</p>
<p>“You’ve mispronounced <em>rescued,” </em>she replied instantly, but he knew he had passed when she sighed and said, “Han isn’t here tonight. He’s on Kashyyyk.”</p>
<p>“You could comm him.”</p>
<p>“I don’t want him to worry.”</p>
<p>He tried to imagine the casual, carefree smuggler in such a state. “I don’t think he’s capable of such a thing.”</p>
<p>“He’s worried more often than not, actually.”</p>
<p>“Hmm.”</p>
<p> He watched as she brushed her hand across a bare shelf behind her, and took a second to focus further on his surroundings.</p>
<p>“This will be the baby’s room, then,” he realized aloud.</p>
<p>“Will be, yes. Take a good look, you’ll never see it after this. You’ll have to imagine a crib here, and then a chair there, but…”</p>
<p>“It looks – nice.” It did. Humble, smaller than he would’ve expected, but there was a real warmth here.  </p>
<p>“Thank you,” she said, almost as if without thinking, and he could tell she meant it, even if it was in spite of herself.</p>
<p>He cleared his throat. “Do you want to tell me what you dreamed? Is that why your unconscious summoned me?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know, do I?” she said, frowning. She had that faraway look, still. It unnerved him. “Luke told me you had terrible nightmares, during our mother’s pregnancy. That they drove you to madness.”</p>
<p>That was her concern? “I don’t think you’re in danger of that,” he said honestly. “You have fury, you have anger, but it’s – well, justified.”</p>
<p>“He said you were certain your dreams were visions.”</p>
<p><em>Oh</em>. “What did you dream?”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t specific. It was just – this suffocating darkness, surrounding him. Just – a <em>choking </em>darkness, taking all oxygen, it was around him and from him – if I couldn’t feel him I would’ve thought he couldn’t breathe, it was just so—”  </p>
<p>“<em>Him</em>. A boy.” For some reason, this information rendered him – overcome.</p>
<p>“This isn’t a gender reveal Force summoning,” she snapped, “It’s a dark presence overwhelming my child.”</p>
<p>“It could be a dark presence,” he ventured. “Or it could be a manifestation of your own anxiety.”</p>
<p>“Was that what you dreamed, then? A manifestation of your own anxiety. Did it feel that way to you?”</p>
<p>“No,” he admitted. “It felt real.”</p>
<p>“And in retrospect – what? Was it a stupid, self-fulfilling prophecy? Some great cosmic irony? Or were you really able to predict, to see…”</p>
<p>“The future is never set, Leia—”</p>
<p>“Yes I know that, obviously, but if I’ve glimpsed it, and I can protect him, then I’ll—<em>oh.” </em>Suddenly she was staring at him, eyes wide, looking so startled.</p>
<p>“Are you – alright? Is it the baby?”</p>
<p>“<em>Oh</em>,” she was saying. “Oh, it’s <em>you</em>. The choking, the air, the mask – it’s you. It’s you. Of course it’s you, it’s always you, isn’t it. It always has been. Even after death. What do you do? Do you tempt him to join you, to follow you? Do you <em>appear</em>, cry ‘summoning’ until your presence is justified—”</p>
<p>“I am consistently being summoned!”</p>
<p>“Do you talk to him about power or family or weakness? No, honestly, now I want to know – what do you <em>do </em>to him? What do you <em>do</em>?”</p>
<p>“I don’t – I don’t—” (He wanted to say he would do nothing, but did he know that? Was her certain? Could he really promise her that he wouldn’t harm her child, when he had harmed every single person she had held dear? Surely he would <em>hurt </em>the child, but tempt him in some way, lead him down a dark path… he had spent so many years in the darkness, could he really guarantee…)</p>
<p>“I feel like an idiot. You must think me an absolute fool.”</p>
<p>“I would never deliberately harm your son, princess. I promise you.”</p>
<p>“You have no self-control,” she snapped, “You’ve murdered in a fit of annoyance, you are so weak, to call you a child would be an insult to children, <em>you knowingly cut off the hand of your son.</em>”</p>
<p>The best he could do: “I am… trying.” A silence. “I am trying. To be better. I want. I am trying. To be better. For – you. For the two of you.”</p>
<p>To his surprise, her gaze softened just a tad. “I see that. But.” A hand to her abdomen, then. “I can’t take that risk.”</p>
<p>The rules, then, were very clear: he would never look upon the child, he would never attempt to speak to the child, if he somehow found himself summoned into the presence of the child, he would do his best to disappear immediately. That there could be the possibility of interaction with her, perhaps, but never with her child. Never with him. Too risky.</p>
<p>He wanted to say, <em>but what if this is why I’m here? What if this child is meant to call upon me, to learn from me, to grow past my errors rather than just be shielded from them? What if he needs my protection, what if I am not the dark presence but rather the one who can keep him safe from it, because I know the darkness’s tricks best of all? What if I’m not a Force ghost at all but a fairy-story ghost, haunting this realm because I have unfinished business, and the unfinished business is to look after my grandson and ensure he doesn’t make these same mistakes?</em></p>
<p>Instead he made a promise and said: “I – understand.”</p>
<p>Which was how he found himself, a disembodied non-corporeal form, stuck outside the only door he could not, would not enter. The door behind which his daughter had been crying out desperately for some time now, only to suddenly, gloriously, be replaced by another cry altogether.</p>
<p>The child. Her child. His grandson.</p>
<p>He could make himself visible and invisible, he could move objects with his mind, he could appear in any plane on any planet, but he could not enter this room. He’d promised.</p>
<p>(He could hear them, though, faintly: Solo’s ecstatic crowing, her wry comments then breathless joy – repeated sounds, maybe crying, there was laughing, another witticism, and underneath all that the faint burbling of <em>the child…</em>)</p>
<p>The door, his promise, his grandson. He would not breach the door.</p>
<p>After a never-ending moment poised listening, suddenly the door flew open, but Solo filled the frame before Anakin could even consider trying to sneak a glimpse inside. He looked worse for wear, certainly, but also bursting with energy, brimming with excitement. He rushed forward through the hallway and was met by Luke, who had risen from the waiting room, and the two men hugged, Solo clapping his son on the back and still wearing that enormous goofy grin.</p>
<p>“All healthy. Born just after the hour. Seven pounds, fifteen ounces, and would you <em>believe </em>this full head of hair. Perfect. He and Leia are both doin’ great.” Solo ran a hand through his hair, practically vibrating with joyful energy, and grinned even wider. “Hey, kid. Can you believe it? You’re an uncle.”</p>
<p>The two men embraced again and headed back towards the door to his daughter’s room.</p>
<p>“Can I see them? I don’t want to crowd her. I can wait long as you need. She’s okay?”</p>
<p>“Yep, she’s all good. They stitched her up some, but she’s fine. She wants to see you, told me to get you.”</p>
<p>“Did you call Chewie?”</p>
<p>“That’s next on my list.”</p>
<p>“I can wait, if you want—”</p>
<p>“Nah, nah, you’re all good. Go right in. Or, here, let me—” Solo knocked on the door, then poked his head in. “Hey, sweetheart. You decent?”</p>
<p>Her voice, tired but still clever as always, so light and <em>happy</em>, he’d never heard her sound so <em>bright</em>: “Does your definition of decency include feeding our son? Or does the exposure involve place it beyond decency’s boundaries?”</p>
<p>“Nah, c’mon, that’s not what I meant. Just last time I was in here it was, y’know. Legs all splayed out, nurse between ‘em.”</p>
<p>“My legs are very much closed, and I plan to keep them that way for the indefinite future.” But this glow underneath, this hum, a kind of bright, light energy surrounding her as she called, “Luke? Is that you?”</p>
<p>(Meanwhile, during the new parents’ banter, his son had cast him a sad, knowing look – Luke knew about the promise he had made, knew he couldn’t breach the door, couldn’t see the child, couldn’t ever…)</p>
<p>“It’s me,” Luke said, and he gave Anakin one last apologetic look. “Is it true?” he asked, stepping into the room. “Am I really an uncle?”</p>
<p>“It’s true,” Leia was saying, he could hear her, just before the door swung shut, this impenetrable force of <em>his promise </em>so solid before him, but still, he could feel it, radiating from the crack at the floor – the brightness, the warmth, the baby, the light. “Look, Ben – it’s our family.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mostly written because I don’t understand why Force Ghost Anakin didn’t just slap some sense into Kylo at some point. Like, honestly. It’s practically a plot hole!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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